


Undercover(s)

by BandaBecca



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 05:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16056359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BandaBecca/pseuds/BandaBecca
Summary: The Inquisitor and the Commander go undercover to learn more about red lyrium smuggling in Redcliffe. Their cover story makes their feelings impossible to ignore...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As a birthday gift to my incredible best friend.
> 
> Enjoy <3

I pulled out another dress from the trunk, the style not what I would normally prefer, but I supposed the point was to look different from my usual self. Sick of unpacking after only 15 min or so, I blew my hair out of my face and stood. 

‘Let’s go to the market.’

Cullen looked up at me from his own trunk. ‘Can’t we finish this first?’

I shrugged, pretending to fiddle with the hanging herbs, looking anywhere but at him in his assigned clothing from Leliana and Josephine. Before this mission, I hadn’t seen him in anything other than his armour. Now he was wearing casual clothing: a loose, white tunic rolled up to his elbows with the ties at the neck partially untied, trousers that looked comfortable yet managed to be flattering, and his hair slightly mussed. Even in this clothing meant to make us blend in with the Fereldens, he couldn’t help but stand out. I was having trouble not staring.

‘We can finish it after they’ve closed down the market. I think it would be good to be out there, let people see our faces. Be sociable, all that.’

He closed the drawer behind a pair of folded trousers and stood. I pretended to pick lint off my skirt to avoid ogling him. ‘All right, if you think that’s best, I’ll come along.’

Was the cabin getting warm? I slammed the trunk closed and dashed out the door. ‘Then let’s go,’ I called over my shoulder.

The door of the hut closed hard behind me before Cullen appeared at my side, and suddenly I didn’t know how to act. Focusing on both collecting information and maintaining our story felt overwhelming with his form filling my peripherals, this man who was posing as my husband and I his wife.

All so we could get the information we’d been missing about Red Lyrium supply in Redcliffe Village.

The smell of fish wafted over to us before we could see any of the stalls. Cullen took a deep breath in. ‘Smells like the market in Honnleath.’ A small smile lifted his features, and it calmed me somewhat.

I figured any market with fish would smell this way but didn’t think it would be helpful to point out. ‘Then I’ll follow your lead.’

His step stuttered. ‘It’s been too long since I was there. I’m hardly a dependable source on village customs after I spent more time in Templar training than I did in Honnleath.’

‘Which is considerably more time than I did when raised by the Dalish.’

He didn’t say anything more, but I didn’t know if it was because he was struggling for a response or because the market came into view. Time for our debut. 

Heat rose to my cheeks at the thought, but I raised my chin and slipped my hand in his. It didn’t close over mine for a moment until at last, he enveloped my fingers almost completely in his own.

I leaned up to his ear, my lips almost touching them as my voice was masked by the volume of the market stalls and their shouting attendants. ‘Time to see who remembers our cover story best.’ Did his fingers tighten?

We passed the first few stalls without a word. Perhaps we were both running through possible conversation topics to use with the villagers, but it quickly became clear that we wouldn’t get any progress this way. I let go of his fingers and moved for the fabric stall run by a woman about my age with long, dark hair. At my approach, her eyes snapped away from the fish stall across the path. 

‘Welcome, what are you looking for? This isn’t my whole stock, so if you see something you like in a colour you don’t love, I may still be able to help you.’

She moved to my side as I ran my fingers over some blue-dyed great bear leather. The deep, rich colour would look amazing on Dorian, but there was no reason that a poor villager would need such a fabric. ‘Thank you, but my husband is encouraging me to be pickier when I spend our money. I’m just looking for the basics this time.’

She laughed. ‘But you are the one who works with the needle, I can see it in your fingers.’

I didn’t know what she saw in my battle-worn hands, but I picked up a stunning red fabric to hide them in the folds of the cloth.

I didn’t give her time to elaborate. ‘We’ve just relocated here, so as much as I wish it was different, our money must be spent on necessities only. For now, of course.’ I smiled.

‘That so? Where is your new home? I hadn’t heard of anyone building…’

I laid the fabric down with care. ‘Not a new home, we’re fixing up the old Pietsch cabin north of the village.’

She whistled. ‘That’s quite a project.’

It was hard to say when our scouts had prepared everything before we even saw the place. I laughed. ‘So we’re learning.’

‘If you’re looking to meet your neighbours, we’ve got a village festival going this week. You’ve missed the first two days, but there’s food, drink, all that.’ Ah, yes, the scouts had mentioned. How pleased Leliana would be that I’d managed to be invited. ‘You two have kids?’

I swallowed hard. ‘Not yet,’ I said, slightly uncomfortable with the lie despite the mission’s need for it.

‘Too bad, it might have kept the others off your husband over there.’ She glanced at Cullen, and I followed her gaze to him browsing the last of the fish remaining from a long day in the market. A shiver ran through me. Those trousers were sinful. ‘Handsome young meat in the village? They’ll be on him like flies on shit.’

I didn’t have to mask the very real feelings of jealously despite the charade of our situation. But the festival was our perfect chance to get exactly the kind of information we needed. And I couldn’t turn down an offer from a potential source.

‘I’ll just have to keep my eye on him.’ Cullen looked over then. I lifted a hand in a wave, and though he returned it, he must have felt scrutinised since his cheeks reddened and he rubbed the back of his neck. ‘What was your name?’

‘Magda.’

‘Olive,’ I said. It was close enough to my own name that I thought I wouldn’t make any mistakes, but far enough from my own that it might not be recognised immediately. ‘I’ll see you this evening.’

Her smile seemed genuine. ‘It was good to meet you.’

I caught up with Cullen at the fishmonger, looping my arm in his. ‘I hope you’re in the mood for a party, Sweet Husband.’


	2. Chapter 2

Having formal wear that didn’t resemble something Josie would have picked for a soiree with Orlesian nobles was a relief. What I wore now as Cullen and I walked toward the bonfire wasn’t something I’d be allowed to wear – even just casually – around Josie or Dorian for the cloth choice alone, never mind that it wasn’t engineered to fit me in a way that accentuated either my curves or my muscles depending on who the Inquisition was trying to impress. 

Despite this, I was just as nervous as if we were going into a party of masked Orlesians. 

As soon as I saw the crowd, I felt out of place. Being forced into a situation in which you knew no one and had to make friends was enough to make anyone nervous. For a mission’s success to depend on that friendship was something else entirely. When Cullen cleared his throat, I suspected I wasn’t the only one realising this.

I tried to make my voice sound light and relaxed. ‘We aren’t here to be anyone’s favourites. We just need to get some good information.’

‘What are the chances that the Red Lyrium smuggler is even going to be here?’ he asked, voice low as the smell of roasted meat blew toward us on a hot breeze.

‘Not running into him at the market this morning was a bit suspicious if he’s supposed to do most of his business in Redcliffe. Surely he’ll need to show his face here, if only for business purposes.’ I pulled his wrist to direct him to put his arm around me, resting on my waist. ‘Besides, even if he’s not, someone here will know him and where he operates.’

It was then that Magda spotted us, turning away from the fish monger and running toward us with a wave. Her cheeks were slightly pink in the light of the fire, and her words were rushed, and she said, ‘I’m so pleased you both could make it!’

I returned her smile even as some of the ale in her tankard sloshed over the edge of the cup and landed dangerously close to my shoe. ‘Magda, please meet my husband, Callum.’

Cullen extended his hand, dwarfing Magda’s in his as they shook. ‘Of course! I saw you in the market this morning. As did the other girls.’ She nudged her head over her shoulder, and I followed the gesture. In a huddle by the fire was a circle of five or so women, heads together, their eyes on us. Rather, on Cullen. ‘Won’t shut their mouths about you.’ 

I narrowed my eyes at them, and they had the good sense to look away, one blonde woman’s gaze lingering on mine a moment longer than the others’. 

‘I can pretend to’ve had too much to drink and spill my ale over them if you’d like,’ Magda offered.

Cullen laughed, but didn’t look her in the eye. ‘I don’t think that will be necessary,’ he said at the same time that I said, ‘Maybe you should.’

Magda didn’t laugh, and I supposed I should have tried harder to make it sound like a joke. ‘Just tell me when.’ She winked as she took my hand and pulled me toward a line of tables with an assortment of partially-drunk ale, picking up two full tankards and pushing them into our hands.

‘To new friends!’ she called, holding up her drink. We did the same as Magda smashed them together a bit too hard, and Cullen and I had to leap back to avoid the sudden spray of ale. 

Before we recovered, Magda took Cullen by the arm and pulled him to a group of people I didn’t recognise. He looked back, eyes desperate. ‘Olive, my love?’

I followed, the smile creeping over my face as the ale warmed my throat. The others politely hushed as we approached, allowing Magda to introduce them one by one, and I almost choked when I saw the smuggler’s crooked brow just before he was introduced. I struggled to cover my surprise by burying my face in my tankard and taking a bigger swig that I should have before extending my hand. ‘Mr. Mason, a pleasure.’

He took Cullen’s hand in turn and said, ‘Richard if you please. It’s good to see new faces in Redcliffe.’ He ignored Magda’s chiming in of ‘that’s exactly what I said!’ as he continued, eyes lingering a bit too long. ‘Usually we see people who filter in and out. People who are here to stay around and make a life here, that’s great for Redcliffe’s economy.’

The words were simple, but his voice was like tree sap. It fought to pull me in and stick to me, to believe his words, but the knowledge I had reminded me to question everything. ‘I’m glad you think so. We’re very pleased to have found friends so soon after arriving in the village.’

He took a half step closer to me, eyes too-sharp. ‘Where did you say you were from?’

‘We hadn’t said,’ Cullen said, surprisingly steady, but voice too hard to hide the threat behind the words. I reached for his hand, hoping the gesture was innocent-looking even if the pressure I used to squeeze his fingers wasn’t. He recovered quickly. ‘But we came here from outside Hasmal.’

‘Marchers, eh? I do a good deal of business there as a matter of fact.’ He swirled the ale around his tankard as he continued, the desire to take a step away from him becoming stronger with each word. ‘Have you attended the annual festival in Ansburg after the harvest? It’s quite…rambunctious at times, but for all the dirt covering the citizens, they certainly know how to throw a party.’

I had no idea what festival he meant, and I knew better than to engage: I suspected he was setting himself up to look like the smartest man in the room. He had that look of a man who needed such attention. ‘Callum has never been to Ansburg, and the only time I visited the city, I was a little girl, too young to remember.’

His gaze travelled over Cullen to me, spending equal time on us both. I couldn’t figure out if the shiver over my skin was due to his predatory disposition or concern that perhaps he recognised one or both of us. Would he tell the others or play along to use the information later? ‘No, I suppose you don’t appear the type to linger in such a place. To me you appear more suited for, perhaps, a holy callin—’

A sudden cheer ran out, and I tightened my grip on the handle of the tankard to avoid looking too pleased with the distraction. I feigned surprise and interest at the centre of the cheers, a roast pig proving to be the source. Cullen placed his arm around me, his hand on my shoulder leading me away from the others just enough that I felt like I could take a few deep breaths. There were too many bodies pushed close to one another though, and we couldn’t say a word without being overheard. Instead we joined the queue for food and chatted about the cabin. I fought not to scan the crowd constantly for Mason. An innocent woman wouldn’t feel threatened enough to keep an eye on him, so such a mistake would be suspicious to him…wouldn’t it? Cullen took my lead as we meandered through disgustingly domestic conversations about the placement of our table or the way we folded our kitchen cloths (which Callum did incorrectly). I was impressed at how well he kept up. He didn’t falter once, even managed to sound irritated as I scolded him. 

After loading our plates, I pretended to fiddle with our food, trading something on his plate with mine as I leaned close. ‘Let me try and handle this on my own, just for a while.’

His eyes bore into mine, and I could tell he wanted to argue. Instead he said, ‘Be careful.’

I felt the other’s eyes on us during the exchange, and my nerves felt frayed under the surveillance. In an attempt to blend in, I stood on my toes to kiss the edge of his jaw. The prickle of his facial hair was pleasant on my lips, and as I pulled away, his eyes were big, his body frozen. Maybe this did the opposite of making us blend in. 

I quickly took his hand and led us over to sit on the hay bales with the others, especially Richard Mason. Cullen knew as well as I that we were going to need to stick by him to get what we needed from the evening. I tried to think like Leliana, but I’d had one too many sips of ale to channel her properly. I took a bite of pork hoping it might focus me better.

Magda didn’t notice when I didn’t answer her probing questions correctly when she asked me for advice on how to approach the fish monger, Tobias. Instead, my attention was diverted to Mason’s conversation with the man on my left whose name I had forgotten.

‘—wagon full of crates,’ the man said.

‘I wasn’t meant to have another shipment until next week. It wasn’t mine, but if they’re monitoring that road, I’ll have to divert my men’s future shipments until things clear up again,’ Mason said.

‘We didn’t see a crest, a banner, anything.’

He threw his entire tanker into the fire, the flames sputtering and shooting ash into the sky. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s the Inquisition.’

I glanced to Cullen whose eyes were already on me despite the three men chattering to him. I cocked an eyebrow, slightly distrustful that we’d gotten the information so easily. I turned my gaze on Magda properly, her eyes glued on Tobias. ‘Ask him to dance. He’s been watching you all evening.’

‘Do you really think so? I couldn’t tell if it was just me.’ She clutched her hand to her chest in an exaggerated motion which I didn’t doubt the sincerity of after the amount of ale she’d had in the last half hour alone.

‘It’s unmistakable,’ I said. ‘Go on, I’ll dance too.’

‘Olive, you’re so wild!’ she said, shooting to her feet.

I laughed as much out of guilt as of nervousness as I stood and turned to Mason. I lifted my voice higher than normal and leaned too close to him, all for the role of drunk new neighbour. ‘Dance with me, Richard!’ I reached for his hand and pulled him toward the circle of already dancing revellers, faking a stumble as we sewed ourselves into the dance. Though I was feigning intoxication, I had still had enough ale to fight with my panic to remember the steps I’d been taught. After bumping into two of the other dancers at the start, I found myself surprisingly able to jump into the dance, my only mistakes intentional ones to brush against Mason or steady my balance on his arm.

Though at first he looked confused by the dancing—a look I never thought I’d see on his face—by the end, my work had the desired effect, if slightly altered from what I expected. Instead of bringing a smile to his face, his gaze had turned even more vicious as I let him lead us away from the other dancers. With a glance over his shoulder—for Cullen most likely—he bent over another tankard before handing it to me. I smiled despite my skin crawling, faking a sip while he boxed me in against the wall of the barn. His back was to the fire, his face in shadow as he loomed over me. 

‘I’m glad Magda convinced you to come tonight,’ he said.

‘As am I.’ I took another ‘sip’ as I gathered my thoughts. ‘Taking a break from rebuilding that cabin was a much-needed respite. And everything hasn’t been smooth, especially with—’ I gasped and covered my mouth.

His eyes narrowed. ‘With what?’

I looked at my feet. ‘I shouldn’t say.’

His feet inched closer to mine. ‘Tell me.’

I looked back up into his face. ‘They’ve done so much for the people here, but…the Inquisition has made progress a stuttering thing. Their messengers or supply needs have forced us to wait for our own supplies almost every step of the way. But it’s never the same people we deal with, so no one cares about our problems.’ Oh, how I hoped this scenario was a complete fiction.

His back straightened slightly, the sneer no longer waiting in the wings. He slammed his fist on the wall of the barn dangerously close to my right ear. ‘Don’t get me started on the Inquisition. They’re ruining my own shipments which then ruin the balance of supply and demand, and it’s making me more than a little cross.’

‘So it’s not just us they’re tormenting.’

He scoffed. ‘Hardly. It’s not as if Lyrium is something users can suddenly go without. The delays caused to my shipments have turned several Templars against me.’

I schooled my features to hide how close he was to destroying himself. ‘I can imagine,’ I choked out. 

‘Those bastards.’ He closed the distance between us almost completely. His nose was almost touching mine, but my body was already pressed against the barn wall as tightly as possible. I looked from one eye to the other, his sneer deepening. My face burned with the realisation that as Olive I had bitten off more than I could chew, and I was…scared. ‘That’s not the light of it either. The Red Stuff—’ 

He was cut off by Magda slamming into his back with her own, her body sprawling to the side while he pinned me to the barn. The pressure was momentary, but it made my skin feel like it was covered in slime. Regardless, the distraction was enough for me to get away without compromising the mission. I shoved him away, our ale mixing as it spilled down his overcoat. Magda was up in moments, ignoring the still-dancing fish monger to pour apologies over me and pull me away from the commotion. 

I sought out Cullen in the crowd, but I only caught a flash of eyes before they were gone again in the sea of faces. Concern. Anger.

‘I’m sorry, I had to think quickly when I saw him trapping you like that.’ Magda’s voice was surprisingly unwavering as she pulled me away from the crowds. ‘I’ve always hated Richard Mason. He somehow ends up in our circle with the merchants, so I have to spend time with him at every gathering, but he makes me feel…dirty somehow.’

We stopped, shaded from the light of the fire by a great apple tree. ‘That was…amazing. Thank you, Magda,’ I said, more out of breath from the thoughtfulness of her act than the malice of Mason’s.

She rubbed my back and peeked around the darkness of the tree where things seemed to be settling down again. ‘I don’t know if you spilled your drink on him on purpose or not, but he’s furious. He’s stormed off. Probably to his house. Or the tavern. They’re both in that direction.’

‘Good riddance,’ I said, leaning over her shoulder to get a look.

‘I’m sorry, Olive. Mason is a special case, Redcliffe is so much more than him. I’m sorry that he was part of your introduction to the place.’

At least I had confirmed he was selling Red Lyrium. He hadn’t directly mentioned Venatori though, so there would be more work to follow after passing along this information. 

I fought to catch my breath. ‘Let’s get back to the others,’ I said, looping my arm in hers.

She followed my lead but still asked, ‘Are you certain?’

‘I need to see my husband.’ She squeezed my arm as I glimpsed Cullen searching the crowd for me, the fish monger talking at his side, likely talking him down. Or attempting to: Cullen’s brow was creased as hard as when he read reports about Samson. ‘Besides, it looks like someone is lonely without you as well,’ I said, nodding my head in their direction.

Her demeanour suddenly softened. ‘He’s been so wonderful tonight, he—’ she stopped suddenly. ‘I’m sorry, after what Mason just did, you probably aren’t in the mood to hear this.’

‘Forget him. What happened with Tobias?’

She glanced at me quickly before hiding her eyes in a very non-Magda fashion. ‘He kissed me.’ 

Perhaps it was the fading adrenaline, but a giggle slipped out of me. ‘Oh Magda. I’m so happy for you.’

It was then that Cullen finally spotted us. His face cleared. It was as if I could hear his sigh despite not being within earshot. 

He strode toward me, pulling me against his chest, arms encasing me completely. I swallowed hard and hugged him back, unsure if the embrace was due to how genuinely worried he was at my disappearance or if he was simply acting as Callum would.

He pulled away, a hand on either side of my face. His voice was quiet when he said, ‘Tobias told me what happened. Are you ok?’

‘Thanks to Magda. Would you walk with me?’

‘Of course,’ he said, his amber eyes peering through mine with an intensity I couldn’t describe. This was Cullen’s worry, not Callum’s.

‘Are you coming back?’ Magda asked.

I nodded, already leading Cullen away. ‘I just need some air.’

‘Air? We’re outsi—’ Tobias started before Magda punched him.

‘Take your time,’ she called out after us.

Neither of us spoke, even when we were out of earshot. I wanted to get farther away: far enough that I felt that I could separate us from the story we were living in this village. I stopped in an open field still close enough to glimpse the fire through the apple orchard. There was nothing for a spy to hide behind, but I still lowered my voice. ‘He’s our guy all right. The Inquisition has already seized some of his goods, but he’s definitely moving Red Lyrium.’

‘To the Venatori?’ he asked, reflecting my hushed tone.

‘Most likely, but I didn’t have enough time to get that from him.’ I considered for a moment. ‘I won’t have an opportunity like that again. I’m worried this was our only chance to loosen his tongue enough to admit something.’ I cursed in Elvhen. ‘I should’ve gotten more.’

‘Leliana’s people can connect the pieces you give them. You’ve done enough. I’m amazed you were able to get even that much from him.’

The chill was beginning to settle over me as the toads sang to each other around us. His voice broke into my thoughts. ‘Olivier.’

I looked up at him.

‘I don’t know how much Tobias saw happen, and how much of it was…Are you all right?’

I rubbed my hands up and down my arms wishing they were his instead. It was hard to go back and forth from convincing myself he was my lover for the good of the mission to going back to who we really were. The change was giving me whiplash. ‘I’ve never felt trapped like that.’

‘Like how?’

I looked away from him and up to the glowing stars, slightly obscured by the smoke from the bonfire behind us. ‘In the moment, I knew exactly what to do to him to get him away from me, but I didn’t know if I could do it if I was pretending to be Olive.’ I crossed my arms tighter. ‘I only had moments to make a decision when I needed more time. Needed to decide whether to cut him down like I should have done or let him keep…talking to get the information the Inquisition needs from me.’ I sighed and looked to him, the crease back in his eyebrows. ‘Magda helped me more than she realised by taking my choice away. I still don’t know what I would have done if given another few seconds and that bothers me. Maybe it shouldn’t, but it does.’ 

He was silent a moment and reached for my hand, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. ‘I’m sorry, Olivier. You’re dealt more unfairness than any of us see. And you never complain.’

I didn’t want to think about this anymore, to feel this heaviness. I started walking back toward the party, saying over my shoulder, ‘I complain. Just not to you.’

He noticed my lighter tone. ‘Perhaps I should be talking to Dorian then.’

‘Perhaps you shouldn’t be.’ I was smiling now.

‘I think he would be excited to share a few stories with me. I’ve seen you two huddled together, obviously gossiping about people within earshot.’

‘Including you. You have your own flaws that we’re planning on exploiting too, and Dorian has plenty of critiques on your…person…that he might be happy to discuss with you.’ We re-entered the light of the bonfire, the music and voices reaching us again. ‘So you’d best tread lightly, Callum,’ I teased, reminding us both to uphold our story once again.

I laughed as he hung his arm over my shoulder and leaned into me for the last few steps as we joined the crowd watching the dancers. Magda was among them, twirling and laughing and giving us a wave when she saw us. As she swung around to us again, quick as a whip, she yanked Cullen into the circle with her. He stumbled slightly and tried to bashfully pull away from her to the safety of the onlookers, and with a shouted word from Magda, Tobias pulled me in as well.

I didn’t fight the music, Tobias’s easy grin pushing the realisation on me that I was allowed to let go. We’d gotten what we needed from the festival. Even if there might be more to this mission, there was nothing more we could do until tomorrow. I could dance with my friends. I could have fun.

I moved from one partner to the next as the song dictated, faces I knew and those I didn’t. This included a pass through someone I recognised as one of Leliana’s people who gave me a wink before spinning away from me in a billowing of her skirts. Cullen’s hand felt warmer than the others, the brief touch shooting heat to my cheeks, mingling with the remaining alcohol in my system. After that, I found myself distracted, fighting to keep my mind on the steps of the dance as he spun other women into his arms, including the blonde woman from before who beamed at the contact. The faces of the other dancers were full of joy though, and it was hard to stay irritated for long.

As the song was finishing and the few fiddles were holding the last note, Magda’s laugh rang out to my left. As I applauded the song, I turned toward the sound to see her pulling Cullen off the ground with a firm tug on his hand. I laughed and weaved through the others to reach them. ‘What happened?’

She shoved him toward me. ‘He was watching you instead of his partner.’

I looked away from her laughing face to Cullen’s, his arm reaching behind him to rub the back of his neck, cheeks deep red. His eyes avoided mine, and I felt a similar colour rise to my cheeks. We didn’t have time to consider each other any longer before the next song began. I took Cullen’s hand before any of the other ‘friendly’ villagers could, pressing my chest lightly against him as the dance began, and we shuffled to the left. I didn’t give him time to use bashfulness to get out of the dance, but to my surprise, he didn’t resist. His eyes focused on me, the blush vanishing from his face as a soft smile replaced it. 

He spun me away from him and back, our bodies together as my other arm rose to circle his neck. His face was inches away, his eyes flicking to my mouth before snapping back. I swallowed. Who was I dancing with, Callum or Cullen? Was I allowed to be feeling this flush of heat? Should I be wanting him to kiss me this badly, or would he turn away if he knew? But the dance moved on, and I followed the steps, our bodies connected only through a linked arm, then the other. Every turn brought him within a breath of me, and I had never felt so aware of my body as when his skin barely missed mine.

We stuck by Magda and Tobias for most of the night. We had a few more drinks, all of us dancing with the others, and I felt comfortable and relaxed and…happy. I was here pretending to be someone other than the Inquisitor. I might as well enjoy it. 

How would I tell Magda and Tobias the truth after this?

The buzzing revelry steadied all at once as Cullen pulled me to a dance that I recognised. It was slower, specifically for couples. Leliana had instructed me in this dance, the motions all entwined bodies. My heart stuttered, and I followed his lead this once.

His eyes were different now. His gaze watched my every movement, eyes full but unreadable as he touched me, embraced me. The music flowed, and it sank into our bones, moving us together on the same axis, time stretching in the space around us. Was I happy or nervous? It didn’t matter if the music didn’t stop.

Though eventually it did. We ended with two of our hands joined, pointing out to the side, the other two laced together. His heavy breathing rhythmically pressed him against me as his eyes shone in the light of the fire. How many times had I seen him across the War Table imagining him looking at me this way? How many times had I woken to dreams of him holding me like this, the heat from our bodies melding together? Applause broke out around us, but we didn’t join them. I released our joined hands and slowly traced mine up the thin cloth of his tunic, the muscles taut underneath. His eyes saw only me as my hand travelled over his shoulder and up to his neck, his skin hot and beading sweat. The feeling sent a jolt of electricity to my abdomen. 

A collective groan rose up from the crowd of people as the band dispersed, and my senses sharpened once more as I refocused on Cullen. He tucked a hair behind my ear. ‘Let’s go home.’

We said our goodbyes to the others, and surprisingly, it wasn’t Magda, but Tobias who asked us repeatedly to join them in the pub. Cullen was firm however, and soon we were headed home, fingers laced together. My head whirred for the short walk, replaying each touch, each gaze, trying to determine when Callum had left and Cullen had taken his place. What would happen when we closed the cabin door behind us? Was he thirsting for my touch as I was for his? Perhaps he was asking himself the same questions, as he didn’t speak until we reached the cabin. 

He released my hand to open the door, and as soon as we stepped through the threshold, my eyes fell on a parchment bearing my name nailed to the inner threshold. I recognised Josephine’s flowing script, and as Cullen lit a candle, the atmosphere in the cabin changed. Here I was Olivier, and the lingering magic of the festival that might have changed that fact dwindled immediately with the receipt of the letter. Cullen felt it too: his posture straightened instead of relaxed, and I could see that he considered himself the Commander once again. I opened the envelope and laid the letter on the table, skimming the words as I pulled a nightgown from my trunk, the clothes I was wearing smelling strongly of smoke. The letter contained an invitation for a party I would have to attend a month from now in Orlais, and the contrast from what would be expected of me there compared to what I had experienced tonight made the frustration feel suddenly unbearable. I wadded up the paper and threw it in the corner. Orlesians ruin everything, even my own romance.

‘Bad news?’ he asked, pulling his vest over his head.

‘The worst: an invitation to Orlais.’

‘Ah, the fireplace is a few metres to the left.’

I smiled and glanced at him over the kitchen table. His back was to me, and I faced an internal struggle. Usually when one of us changed clothes, the other was out of the cabin completely. Even if the events of the party had been real, surely he wouldn’t…I couldn’t expect him to…

I said nothing and turned my back to him to change. When I finished, I moved to the bed where he was sitting, down to his breeches and thin tunic, pulling his boots off. I laid down, wondering if he had noticed or even seen, and pulled the covers over me. He was wearing his Commander face, and in an attempt to salvage what had happened this evening I said, ‘I’ll write the report if you cook breakfast.’

He stopped what he was doing to glance at me over his shoulder. ‘You know I can’t cook.’

‘You can cook, just not well.’ I turned on my side facing him as he laid down, body turned to me.

‘I’m not letting you give the speech to the soldiers when we next face Corypheus.’

I laughed. ‘It’s fun to watch you. You get very frustrated.’

He lowered his voice slightly, eyes softening as they stared into mine. ‘Perhaps because I don’t like being watched.’

‘Don’t you?’

He rolled to his back and tucked his arms under his head, mumbling something.

‘Hmm?’ I turned away from him to blow out the candle on the table beside the bed.

I couldn’t see him in the darkness as he said quietly, ‘Nothing.’

I stared at the spot where I knew his face was, unsure if I should press. In the cabin I couldn’t hide behind Olive when I did or said something. After a moment, I turned on my side away from him, but I was too aware of how close his body was to be able to feel the least bit tired, every inch tingling and waiting for his touch. I fought to slow my breathing in the silent room, the crickets not loud enough to muffle it, betraying my thoughts of turning back to him and kissing him all over. ‘Good night, Cullen.’

‘Good night, Olivier.’


	3. Chapter 3

After filing the report to Leliana about Mason’s words at the festival, Cullen and I kept up our story. We went to one of the other harvest festival celebrations, but Mason wasn’t there. We tried staying for the party regardless, but the difference between the first night and this one had done its damage. We couldn’t re-create the feeling of that night. 

I only saw Mason one other time in the market, but he went out of his way to avoid me, even when I waved him over to Magda’s stall. I hoped it was only because he thought me a drunkard, not that he knew who I was, but I didn’t have an opportunity to find out. It only took me a few hours after the incident to feel like I was somewhere I shouldn’t be when there were a thousand other things I should be doing to help people. If Olive couldn’t get close to Mason, there was no reason for me to be her any longer, and the knowledge made it hard to justify our presence in Redcliffe. Cullen began to feel antsy too, reading and re-reading the few reports we were given about goings-on outside of the village, spending time on them even when the missions were closed. I took to starting a vegetable garden that I knew I’d never see come to fruition to give myself something to do.

Finally, a chance came to put ourselves to good use. One of the scouts—the woman I saw at the festival—stopped by under the pretence of bringing us bread to tell us of an open rift not far from us. We eagerly donned our armour, hid our faces behind scarves, and left for the area. Seeing Cullen in his armour again was slightly unnerving, if only because it destroyed any lingering memories of our charade, when there was such a huge part of it I wasn’t ready to let go of. He changed when he tied that mantle back around himself, but perhaps I had too when I pulled my armour on. Callum was gone now, and I found I didn’t quite know how to talk to this man when it felt as if things both had and hadn’t changed between us since the last time he’d worn it.

He scratched at the scarf on his face protecting his identity, but he didn’t pull it off. I smiled, understanding the discomfort of someone who wasn’t used to the accessory, and I smoothed it over his ears to help it stay in place. I was at ease in my own clothing: my black leather armour and scarf blended together for a look I had donned many times before the Conclave, saved for whenever I was sneaking around Shemlen cities—both with and without permission from the Keeper. This armour felt to me like a second skin. I shifted on the back of my horse, wishing for the Hart I usually rode, even while realising she was too conspicuous. The leather of my armour moved with me as I rode, and I felt free and open for the first time since coming to Redcliffe. Maybe since becoming Inquisitor. I urged my horse faster. Cullen effortlessly kept up with me, a glance at him showing crinkled eyes above his scarf, his shoulders leaned forward, eager. I had been sharing a cabin with this man, how had I not noticed how badly he needed this too?

A flash of green captured my attention ahead of us, the rift reacting to the approaching Mark, glowing bright in the fading light. Spotting a pride demon, I leapt off my horse without stopping, not wanting to let it run up too close to the demons. The scout had reported two, but there were four immediately under the rift and more further away trying to claw at Inquisition soldiers fighting to keep them from spreading to the village.

I pulled a dagger from behind my back with my right hand, reaching up with my left to disrupt the rift as I closed in on a pride demon chasing after Rylen. I hadn’t known Cullen’s right-hand man was in the area, and surely Cullen didn’t either, or perhaps he would have—The demon lunged, but I dashed around it, jabbing from quickly from different directions like a hidden blade. One final dagger up under where its ribs would be, and it crumbled into the dirt. Rylen gave me a nod as he turned to another demon, and I mirrored the gesture.

I bounced, dove, and leapt from one demon to the next, and with Rylen, Cullen, and me working together, it didn’t take long until the demons were dead. I raised my hand to the rift, the familiar yank spasming up my arm as if the mark was trying to pull the rift toward it and vice versa. The unpleasant sensation continued until the sudden release of pressure flung my arm back, skin burning like flame for a moment, just like always.

I turned to the others, sheathing my blades. ‘I’m impressed with you boys,’ I said, the scarf sticking to the sweat along my face and neck.

‘You don’t keep us around for nothing, Your Worship,’ Rylen said, pulling his hand away from his neck, his fingers coming away bloody.

I jogged over to him, pulling his hood aside to see a gash just missing the artery in his neck. ‘I told you to stop calling me that,’ I murmured, pulling a salve and bandages from one of the satchels attached to my belt. I smeared the salve onto a patch of the bandage and applied it to the wound, wrapping the bandage gently but quickly around his neck. ‘I don’t envy you. Neck wounds are weeks of turning your whole body instead of your head.’

‘Not to worry, such wounds are old hat by now,’ he said, glancing at me with just his eyes.

I looked away from the knot I was tying to raise an eyebrow at him. ‘Wonder you don’t try harder to protect your neck then.’ I stepped back, eying my handiwork.

‘I will do my upmost from here, Inquisito—’

‘Is everything alright?’ Cullen asked, his voice a bit too loud as he approached us.

‘Unless you’re hiding another injury…?’ I cocked my head at Rylen, who smiled and shook his head, instantly cringing. I tried not to laugh. 

‘Then we’re done here, are we not? We should get back to the cabin.’ Cullen fiddled with his scarf again.

I put a hand on my hip. ‘So we can watch my tomato plants grow? Are you in such a rush?’ I turned back to Rylen. ‘Any news from Leliana?’

He shook his head. ‘She has some proposals for you to look through concerning how to proceed with Richard Mason, but I’m afraid she didn’t say when they would be ready.’ He poked at his bandage and I slapped his hand away.

‘Well, tell her…to hurry up,’ I grumbled, kicking a stone a few metres. Just then, Cullen whistled to the horses, making me jump. I cast a sidelong glance at him as they trotted over to us, mounting up as Cullen rode off immediately. I reached down, holding the salve out to Rylen. It was my own stock, but it was simple enough to make, especially with all the free time I had recently. ‘I made this myself. Apply it to the wound whenever you change the bandages. And please change them at least once a day for the first few days. And whenever you get too sweaty.’ I felt all too aware of my own body dripping under my armour. ‘I’ll find out if you don’t.’

‘Thank you. I’ll do as you say,’ he said, turning the bottle in his hands.

I nudged my horse forward. ‘I’ll tell Andraste if you don’t!’ I called over my shoulder.

I didn’t rush back to the cabin for two reasons. Firstly, I knew Cullen would want to bathe, so I didn’t want to disturb his walk to the stream, and two, I knew his testy attitude was because he had seen when I failed to block a swipe by the pride demon. It wasn’t as if it had gone through my armour anyway, I’d just be bruised. Still, I was sure he had a lecture prepared about how reckless I’d been, and I wanted to prepare myself a bit more before I heard it to have my side of the argument ready.

When I led my horse into the enclosure where his was waiting, I was surprised to hear him still in the cabin, bashing pots around. I stepped in to him with his armour half-on, staring at a pot on the stove.

I hesitated. ‘What are you doing?’

He didn’t look at me. ‘Making tea.’

I pulled my scarf down around my neck and took a step inside, stepping over his scarf sprawled across the middle of the floor. He didn’t have any tea leaves out, but he made no move to fetch any from the stock we had. Even if I hadn’t been sharing a cabin with him for the last week, I’d be able to see something roiling underneath his demeanour, something more than a bad move in a fight. I put a hand on his arm. ‘Cullen, what’s wrong?’

The crease in his brow relaxed for a moment. The cloth of his tunic blocking me from touching his skin frustrated me. I wanted to raise my fingers to his face, turn his gaze to me, and make him see me, really see me. But the scowl returned, and he moved away from me, choosing this moment to rummage through the cupboard for tea. 

I dropped my hand to my side and swallowed hard. ‘Oh,’ I said more to myself than anything. ‘I’ll bathe first then.’ He didn’t say a word as I gathered up clean clothes and soap. In the doorway I considered pressing, but the thought of him turning away again pushed me out the door.

The water was frigid as always as I fought to figure out if Cullen could be this upset about the pride demon. Perhaps…he felt something for me too? Perhaps even enough that a brush with danger unnerved him, and he found he could no longer contain his feelings? 

But then…maybe I should be upset too, because if he trusted me on the battlefield more, he wouldn’t be feeling this way at all. I tried quite hard to be upset, but the thought of him having feelings for me was too effective a distraction.

I needed to speak with him, tell him how I felt. I jogged the remaining steps to the cabin, not bothering to close the door behind me. I threw my clothes in the corner, turning to Cullen still leaning over the stove. 

‘There’s something I—’ His face was an ashy colour, and he was sweating though the temperature in the cabin was cool. ‘Creators, Cullen, what…’ I didn’t finish the question, just lowered him into one of the kitchen chairs. I sniffed the air, the scent of Elfroot unmistakable.

I rushed to the stove, finishing the potion he was brewing, the Elfroot almost boiled beyond use. I poured the contents into a cup. ‘Why did you lie?’

‘I didn’t, I just didn’t tell you everything.’ The way he mumbled the words suggested that he knew it was as weak an excuse as I did.

‘You lied about making tea.’ It may have been small, but it was the only argument I could grab onto with this much worry flooding into me. I put the potion on the table in front of him, perhaps a little too hard. I knelt next to the chair. ‘Where are you hurt?’

He looked down at me, eyes drooping. ‘Olivier—’

I shot him a venomous look before saying through gritted teeth, ‘Show me.’

He pulled up his shirt to show a wound just above his right hipbone, 10 centimetres long, almost long enough to stretch around to his back.

I held in a curse, not wanting to show my alarm: I had given my salve to Rylen, and Cullen was slouching further in his chair every second. I stood and pushed the cup closer to him. ‘Even just a few sips would help.’ I moved to boil more water to clean the wound and reached for the Elfroot still in the strainer from his potion, rummaging in the other cupboards for ingredients to make a new salve. Nothing. 

I turned away with a swipe of the back of my wrist across my forehead. I dug around in my trunk for my sewing kit, holding the needle in the flame for a few seconds, not daring to look at him for fear of having to force him to drink more Elfroot. I stuck the pin into the sleeve of my nightgown for safekeeping as I returned to him at the table.

‘I can do it myself, Olivier. I’ve done it before,’ his voice was too quiet.

‘I wasn’t there to help you then,’ I said, pulling his shirt up once again to see the injury, ‘and I’m here now.’ I looked from the wound where the blood had mostly dried now, up to his face, his eyes watching me. I bit my lip to keep from babbling all the things I wanted to say, how worried I was, how I wouldn’t let him slip away from me, and instead moved to the stove to collect the boiled water and clean bandages.

You should have told me…You can trust me…I would have taken care of you …I care for you…

I settled next to him, dipping a cloth in the water with all too few healing herbs in it. I felt his eyes on me as I gently cleaned the dried blood away to reveal a flaming red gash beneath. I fought to keep my face clear as I worked, but too often I caught myself scowling at the wound or worrying my bottom lip.

By the time I was finished, he had drunk the entirety of the Elfroot, but was leaning heavily on the table, neck bent low, face pointed at the floor. I put my hand on his forehead, moving it to his cheek, the clammy skin holding a fever, no doubt. ‘Come to bed, Cullen,’ I said, a hand closing firmly on his elbow and giving a pull that wasn’t enough to carry him, but enough to encourage him to move on his own. He stood slowly, his neck and shoulders still hunched as I took some of his weight and led him to the bed. I laid him down slowly, working his body into a reclined position, putting pillows under him even as he fell backwards.

‘Please don’t…fuss like this. I’ll be fine,’ he said.

‘I’m not fussing,’ I said pulling the needle out of my sleeve, wanting to get this over with. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’ I didn’t mention that I’d had very limited experience stitching anyone. I wanted badly to stop and take a deep breath before beginning, but I figured hesitation wasn’t something that would make him feel particularly confident in my abilities. Would it be better to let him relax in silence or should I talk to distract him? I swallowed and laid my hand on his chest gently before starting. In my nervousness, I jabbed too hard for the first stitch, cringing myself when he flinched. For his credit, he didn’t say a word, even as I saw his fists tighten to prepare for the next stitch. As I continued, I moved slowly, trying to be delicate to cause less pain even as it slowed the process. I wished Dorian was here. 

The longer I worked, the more I felt as if bile was rising in my throat, and the more I struggled to keep my hands from shaking. You only have to finish this. You can break down once its finished somewhere he can’t see you. 

Tugging the thread through was the worst part. I held down his skin with my left hand as I pulled the thread with the right, preventing the skin from pulling along with it. Watching the skin give and move as I did so, made my own skin feel sensitive and only increased my feeling of nausea. 

Halfway through, his hand fell upon my own. ‘Olivier?’

I hesitated before sighing and looking up to him. ‘You might have had a more-skilled healer. I’m so sorry.’

His hand fell away as he attempted to sit up on his elbow. With a hissed breath, he let himself fall back down, and my hand shot up to his shoulder to keep him down. ‘Don’t apologise to me. I should have told someone I was injured at the rift.’

I stared at my hand, still resting on his chest. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone?’

He was so pale, but the colour shifted in his cheeks slightly as he stared up at the ceiling. ‘I didn’t think the wound was this bad.’

He still wasn’t meeting my eyes. I moved my hand to his neck, fingers brushing against the skin, heat travelling up my arm. ‘What is it?’

‘Nothing…You were busy.’ He fiddled with the bed sheets under him, and my mind shot to the forgotten idea while I was bathing.

‘I know you were angry with me for that move with the pride demon.’ Suddenly I didn’t feel like I should defend myself against the action. Maybe he was right. I was seeing the result of reckless behaviour in his half-stitched abdomen. ‘I should have been more careful. I was just so happy to be doing something to help when there are people bleeding for our cause while we stay here—’

‘It wasn’t that.’

He finally looked at me, his eyes bloodshot and half-closed. I shouldn’t be pushing him when his brain was struggling so hard to maintain itself. ‘I…don’t understand.’

‘You…’ he sighed and closed his eyes. ‘This isn’t the right time for this.’

‘Cullen.’

He opened his eyes, sharper than before. ‘You were busy with Rylen.’

Oh. ‘He’s not…I’m not…’ The courage I had built up coming back from the stream had leaked out of me ten stitches ago, and I felt like such a fool. Even after his confession, it felt so terrifying to simply say it when so much could go wrong. 

But I wasn’t about to let this slip through my fingers. I put my hand on his cheek and leaned down, pressing my lips to the hot skin under his ear. I breathed in the smell of leather and sweat, nudging his ear with my nose and whispered, ‘Rylen’s not the one I want, Cullen.’

I didn’t want to lean away again and risk his eyes not reflecting my feelings. His hand grasped mine firmly, and when I looked up, a ‘no’ wasn’t what I saw in his expression. His eyes were smiling despite his physical weakness, and he opened and closed his mouth twice as if trying to find the words. He was…just as scared to confess as I had been.

He was also right: this wasn’t the right time for this discussion. I took his hand and held his palm to my lips, guilt running through my veins. ‘Let me finish this, and we can talk about this as much as we want after, ok?’

He nodded, his thumb tracing my jaw. I couldn’t hide my smile as I looked down at him, at least until I picked up the needle again. This time my hands didn’t shake.

Three quarters of the way through, he lost consciousness. When his body went slack, I panicked until I pressed my fingers to his neck, reassured by the heartbeat. I tried to finish up quickly, biting off the thread and tying it as best as I could. Even asleep, his eyes were closed tight, and I hoped his dreams weren’t full of pain as well, but he was still sweating, and there was no improvement with his colour.

I had to get more supplies for a salve.

The sun was going down, and the market would be closed, but surely Magda was out and about. I scribbled a quick note and lit a candle, placing the parchment beneath it. Unable to find my own cloak, I grabbed his on my way out the door, slipping the bridle on my horse, but riding bareback into the city.

~~~

I rode back as quickly as I dared in the low light, pack brimming with my ingredients. Magda had refused to take the money I offered, but I didn’t have the patience to force it on her. For her credit, she didn’t ask me what happened, just rushed to help when she saw the alarm on my face. I flung myself from the horse and re-entered the cabin. I had been gone far too long, and Cullen didn’t look like he had moved.

I crushed the Prophet’s Laurel, the bitter smell rising into the air as I soaked myself in an overwhelming confusion. Last week, I thought that suddenly having to pretend to be Cullen’s wife was a drastic change of my circumstances, but the change between my boredom this very morning to my desperation in this moment was far greater. How things had altered since then, both big and small…

I tossed the teaspoon aside and resumed my place on the bed, carefully applying the salve along the cut, eyes trained on his face for any reaction. I had to rotate his body back and forth to wrap the bandages around him a few times, but it wasn’t until I was finally tying the knot that he stirred. Perhaps I had tied it too tight or perhaps he was just too woozy, but he hissed through teeth, and I pulled my hands away, surprised.

‘Don’t stop,’ he said, words slurred.

‘Oh, um…I’m finished. I managed to make some more salve, so you should be fine until we can get a healer in the morning.’ But I laid my hands on the bare skin of his chest anyway.

‘I’m sorry I lied to you about tea,’ he said, eyes closed.

I bit my lip to keep from smiling. ‘I think you made up for it.’

‘Are you coming to bed?’

I took a slow, deep breath, taking in his shining skin before pulling the blanket over his chest. I took off my shoes and let his cloak drop to the floor. I climbed over him, settling into…our bed…and entwined my fingers in his, enjoying the gentle squeeze as I fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

In the morning, things moved quickly. A scout delivered the mission proposals early enough to rouse me from sleep as Cullen thankfully slept on, and I drug myself away from his side to pick them up. I skimmed the proposals as the scout sent for a healer, and I moved to the bed when he woke shortly after and sat up, rubbing his face. His eyes were puffy from sleep, and the colour hadn’t completely returned to his face yet, but his gaze was alert as he looked at me. I set the parchment aside and sat next to him.

‘How are you feeling?’ I asked, peeking under the bandage. There wasn’t much I could see under the salve, but the skin around it wasn’t red or swollen.

He took my hand. ‘Very good.’

I moved my eyes to his face, leaning in slightly as his eyes took a balmy, much less Commander-like look. ‘Maybe there’s something I could—’ There was a knock at the door. I held in my grumble as I rose to answer it, finding not the Redcliffe healer, but one of our own. Even though our cabin maintained our cover story in almost every way, best not have villagers inside before the mission was closed.

As he worked on Cullen, I read through the proposals, surprised to find that there were none which involved us going after Mason ourselves. When I raised the point to Cullen, he said over the shoulder of the healer, ‘She knows you have cabin fever, I’m sure. And she’s right, we’ve spent too much time here, we need to get back to Skyhold.’

I couldn’t argue with that. Whether she guessed my restlessness or because there was a list of problems on my desk that needed solving, I’d done my part and I had to let the mission move on to the next member. Now to think of a way to convince her to let us use Magda for trade or information. Or both. ‘I bet you’ve been itching to get back to your reports the way you obsess over the piles of them on your desk,’ I said, tossing two proposals aside.

‘Are you criticising me for working too much? You’ve slept more here in Redcliffe than during the months since Haven combined.’

I crumpled up one of the proposals and threw it at him. ‘So says the most well-rested man in Thedas.’

He opened his mouth to argue as the healer stood, and we both went quiet as if scolded. ‘Finished. Check in with one of the healers in Skyhold after you’ve arrived to assure the wound was not aggravated during travel.’

Cullen nodded. ‘Thank you.’

He bowed. ‘Commander. Your Worship.’ He turned to me as he left and lowered his voice. ‘Please make sure he does make his way to the infirmary. I know his type. He’ll try to avoid it.’

I glanced at Cullen over his shoulder. ‘Of course. Thank you for your help.’ I closed the door behind him and moved to Cullen. Now that he was out of danger, his shirtlessness felt quite…different in this small space. As I got close, even without his armour, he looked ever the commanding figure, from his posture to the sheer amount of space he took up. I ran my thumb along the scar left behind, his breath ghosting over the top of my head as I did so. ‘I was pretty worried last night.’

‘I’m sorry, Olivier.’ He placed a finger under my chin and pulled my gaze up to his. ‘It wasn’t all bad, was it?’

I smiled, eyes darting to his lips. ‘I suppose not.’ My heart pounded wildly as he leaned lower, lower…

Another knock at the door.

My eyes opened, but I didn’t move away, and he didn’t either. Instead, his hands came to my hips and pulled me against him. His lips were soft against my own, and I sighed into the kiss, running my hands up his arms. Before they could close over the hardened muscles of his shoulders, the door opened. I turned to the intruder, embarrassed, brain scrambling for an excuse. I sighed in relief to see Rylen in the threshold.

‘Commander, Inqui—’ he froze and a slow smile worked its way onto his face.

Even if it would have been worse if someone else had walked in, my neck got warm. ‘We were…we were just…’

‘I trust you can keep this to yourself, Rylen.’

‘I didn’t see anything,’ he said, the wicked smile lingering on his face.

‘What did you need?’ I asked, stepping away from the distracting heat of Cullen’s chest, ready to settle the issue and have Cullen to myself again.

‘Sister Nightingale is requesting your decision for the proposal.’

Cullen’s voice was cross. ‘Already? Olivier’s barely had time to look at them.’

‘Are you suggesting that you’re worried about having enough time? After what you were just—’

‘All right, here’s the proposal I choose,’ I said, handing it over.

‘Thank you, Inquisitor,’ he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘I’m also here to officially report this mission as closed.’ He handed over the parchment that I had filled out myself enough times to have it memorised.

Finally. I looked behind me to Cullen. ‘Let’s go back to Skyhold then,’ I said pointedly, giving Rylen a look. 

He took the hint and walked out. It wasn’t quickly enough for me to catch him saying, ‘I would have lost seven sovereigns to that dwarf if someone else had…’

The door closed and we both looked at each other. I was fidgety and moved idly toward my trunk. ‘I guess we deserve that. He brought us together last night in a way, it makes sense that now he would…’ I cleared my throat and peeked over my shoulder at him, but he was still watching me, my glance backwards forcing his gaze from my ass to my face. The atmosphere of the room was changing back to something official, and I straightened, unwilling to let Cullen be stolen from me. Not when we were going back to Skyhold and our time wouldn’t be our own again. I had waited long enough for him, watching him, all those things I loved about him right across a table. I’d had a week to find out if he felt something for me too, and now I had my answer. 

I dropped the dress I’d been folding into the trunk. I’d pretended for this long that he was mine. I wasn’t going to go back to a life when he wasn’t. Whatever he saw in my face, he strode toward me, meeting me in the middle, pressing me against him with one arm around my lower back and the other tilting my face up to him. To know that he had been waiting for me too, that I hadn’t been wrong about the electricity I felt when he looked at me, felt like it was all leading to this feeling of being so completely desired by him as he clawed at my clothes. I clung to him tightly, pulling his head down further to kiss him deeper. Despite our desperation, the kiss didn’t feel rushed. His lips moved over and against my own, his heat spreading along with his mouth over my cheek and down my neck, a chill working its way over my arms as his mouth closed over my collarbone.

My fingers danced up his chest, over the solid mass of muscle, his skin lighting a fire in my own. I closed my eyes, tilting my head to open my neck further to him. He didn’t disappoint me: he whispered my name between open-mouthed kisses, and the attention made me blush and gasp for breath. I pushed the straps of my nightgown off my shoulders, the fabric fluttering down my legs and over my feet.

He pulled away, his forehead touching mine, catching his breath. His eyes flowed from mine down over my body. His grip tightened on me. ‘Olivier, you’re…Maker, you’re beautiful.’

I reached for his trousers with one hand. ‘I want to see you.’ I pulled on the string holding them closed.

With my confession, his eyes went wide before rushing to remove them, leaving us both in nothing but our smalls. I didn’t wait for him to stand fully again before I pressed myself against him, pushing him back until his legs hit the bed. One more nudge and we fell back onto the bed together, one of my legs on either side of him. I sat back and looked into his face, clear of the concern I’d grown so used to seeing there. His expression now was open and smiling, focused completely on me. His hands moved up my waist, over my ribs, back down and around my hips to grab my ass. His slow attention to each movement made clear something that made my toes curl: as long as I’d known him, he always seemed to be performing one task while planning the next. But not now. Now, every part of him was completely tuned into our bodies and the way they felt as they moved together.

His fingers lingered on my hips, squeezing into the skin, and he moved with me as I ground myself against his half erection. He groaned my name, his eyes moving from a gentle to a predatory devotion. His hands moved up and closed over my breasts, the sudden force of it causing me to brace myself against him. His head fell forward, resting on my shoulder, and he groaned, rubbing circles around the pert buds.

Whether on accident or intentionally, he pinched my left nipple, and pleasure shot through my whole body. I arched my back and cried out in surprise, only to lose myself when I was pressed against his chest and swiftly turned to lay on my back. I wrapped both my arms around him and pulled him more firmly over me, wishing for every inch of his body to touch every inch of mine. I nipped at his ear, and he shivered, his skin covering mine more completely. Everything he did, every way he touched and kissed me felt like fire magic. 

I needed more.

I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth playfully. ‘Cullen, I want to…’ but I stopped, suddenly shy.

He pulled away, eyes foggy and lips swollen. ‘I want you, Olivier.’

I reached for my smalls, lifting my hips off the bed. Cullen took the hint and removed them in one smooth pull. Distracted by the sight, his hands slowed in their journey to remove his own, as his eyes drank me in. I pulled at the waistband of his smalls with my toe to bring his attention back to task before he quickly removed them, his arousal apparent. It was a half sigh, half gasp that escaped me, the desire to feel full of him overwhelming. I opened my legs slightly and he climbed over me, taking his time to kiss a path from my ankles to my lips.

I weaved my fingers through his hair, wanting to be so close to him that I couldn’t find the boundaries between his body and mine. His whole body stilled as his lips captured my own. This kiss felt different and left me gasping: his mouth was firm as he lingered there, and I felt as if I couldn’t ever get away from this perfect, drowning feeling even if I tried. He pulled away, his expression open. I could see in the lines of his face that he was taking one last chance to change my mind.

The only words that mattered now were the only ones which expressed what I wanted. ‘Make love to me.’

He kissed me once more on the corner of my mouth as he lined himself up against me and pushed into me slowly. I clung to him tighter, the sensation of him sliding into me feeling as if my soul was leaping out of my skin to jump into his. I closed my eyes tight with a keening sigh. He thrust into me gently twice more to allow me time to get used to his size.

He muttered something incoherent through gasping breaths, and I was able to make out, ‘Sweet Maker’, ‘Olivier’, and ‘feel amazing.’

I licked around the shell of his ear, and his grip tightened on me. I wished it was harder. ‘Creators, Cullen. Give me more,’ I moaned, wrapping my legs around him.

He braced himself on the bed to give himself better leverage to hilt himself further, and he quickened his pace. I took a shuddering breath when his fingers reached my clit, the pressure making my muscles go slack. I opened my eyes to him hovering over me, determination written in the set of his eyebrows. His skin was flushed, his muscles taut, but those eyes…my pleasure was clearly just as important to him as his own. I felt a wave of coolness through my veins at the realisation that pining for him for so long was worth it if it meant that I could see him looking at me like this right now. I reached up to him, pulling him down to kiss me. His hips slowed slightly as I strained my neck to reach his lips, and I could feel in the way he clung to me as we embraced that he felt this too. 

The moment was pleasantly burned away when his lips moved down my neck to close around one nipple, the shock rippling through my limbs. I shouted curses in Elvhen which would have made my Keeper blush, the sound muffled against his neck. ‘Harder!’ I screamed through gritted teeth, my ending growing ever closer.

He obliged, wrapping his arms around my thighs to hold me steady and pound into me even deeper as I angled myself so he hit the spot inside me that made me see stars.

I was speeding toward the precipice now, the primal sounds spilling from Cullen’s mouth only furthering my pleasure. Heat spread from my core to the whole of my body as I cried out, ‘Please Cullen, I’m close.’

He groaned and moved one hand from my thigh to rub my clit, pushing me off the ledge into a void I gladly leapt into. I screamed his name, fingertips digging into his shoulder blades and heels holding me in place to make the pleasure last. Only a moment later, his hips stuttered as his spilled inside me, a curse on his lips.

He collapsed onto me for a breath or two before rolling over beside me. I wasn’t ready for the loss of contact yet, and I tucked myself under his arm, enjoying the post-coital light-headedness buzzing between my ears. I kept my eyes closed and traced my fingers up and down his ribs. 

We hadn’t quite caught our breath when he said, ‘We’ve shared this bed too many nights. All of them I laid awake wanting to reach over and touch you in the dark. To kiss you awake in the morning.’

I opened my eyes to his attentive gaze on me once more. I kissed the bit of his jaw that I could reach. ‘I would have let you.’ I leaned up on my elbow and buried my nose in his hair. ‘Maybe even enjoyed it.’

The light bounce of his chest as he laughed made me dizzier. ‘Josephine can hound me as much as she likes with letters and reports when we return. I’m not letting you slip away, no matter how busy Skyhold becomes.’

I kissed him slowly, breathing in the faint aroma of sex that lingered in the room. ‘Not even Jim could keep me away from you now.’


End file.
